


Wet Paint and Lasagna Pans

by TimeLadyoftheSith



Series: Prompt Generator Insanity [3]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Colormayfade Prompt Generator, F/M, Lasagna Pans, Neighbors, Surprise Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 04:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLadyoftheSith/pseuds/TimeLadyoftheSith
Summary: Rose Tyler loans her neighbor a Lasagna Dish. What could go wrong/right?





	Wet Paint and Lasagna Pans

Rose absolutely loved the neighborhood she had recently moved into. It had been the crowning achievement of her life, and everything her mother had ever hoped for. Growing up as the only child of a single parent in the estates, everyone had expected her to become just another statistic. Boy had she proved them wrong.

At twelve, she had discovered a journal in the hall closet that belonged to her father. In it was detailed all of the ideas he had to become a self made businessman. Sadly, he had never seemed to get them quite right and passed away before he could really try most of them. Rose had poured over the journal every night, reading about his inventions and ideas.

At thirteen, she started babysitting. Every pence and pound that she could get her hands on, she saved or bought the parts needed to put together his ideas. She also poured herself into books at the library on basic development and engineering. At sixteen years old, she finally managed to perfect a handful of his ideas: sunlight detecting lamps that dimmed or brightened according to the light through the windows, a wrist watch that could monitor the pulse and alert an emergency service or contact if it became too irregular or stopped, and a pair of sunglasses that sensed UV light and would slide the lenses out over the eyes or retract in once the UV lessened.

With her mother's support, she had proposed them to a office and got her inventions patented. Pairing her inventions with her artistic skills, she began marketing. It was slow going at first, as companies were hesitant to invest in some barely out of school girl from the estates. When she was eighteen, a home medical alert company in the States bought out her wrist watch design for about two million pounds. Her lamps were currently being sold at Henriks and gaining a global market, and a huge order sunglasses had just been bought to go in gift bags at the Emmy's.

Rose Tyler had gone from nothing, to a selfmade millionaire. At first, she had taken all of her money and helped get her mother out of debt and into a nice home. Then she purchased a rundown hair salon, and invested in it for her mother to fulfill her dream of being a salon owner. Then she had helped her best friend Mickey pay for college so he could become a car designer.

Once everyone else in her life had been taken care of, Rose had finally splurged on herself. She had bought the adorable two story house, with an equally adorable garden, and a modest car. Now here she was, twenty one, with only her A-levels, but on top of the world. The only thing missing, according to her mother, was a man. It wasn't that Rose didn't want to date, it was just that until two months ago she didn't have the time.

She contemplated that thought, as she bustled around her kitchen cooking dinner. It was a bit lonely, now that she didn't live with her mum. She was just dicing tomatoes when the doorbell rang. Rose wiped her hands and walked to the door. She peeked through the peephole, and was greeted by the sight of the doctor who lived across the street. She didn't know his name, just that he was one of the owners at a rather successful cosmetic surgery office.

Rose plastered on her most polite smile and opened the door. "Hello!" She had never seen him up close before, but blimey he was gorgeous. He had a thick head of shiny hair, proud cheekbones, and a tone slender body. She always saw him in suits, so she was a bit surprised to see him in a tshirt splattered with sauce and a pair of khaki cargo pants.

"Hi, um, sorry, I'm afraid we've not been introduced." He was blushing a bit as he caught her analyzing his stained shirt. "I'm Jonathan Mcrimmon. I live across the street." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at his house.

"Rose Tyler." She leaned her shoulder against the door frame and tried to stifle a giggle as sauce dripped down his side burns to his jaw. She pointed at the mess he was making.

"Nice to meet you." He rubbed his hand along his jaw and sighed. "Listen. I was wondering if I could possibly borrow glass pan to make lasagna. Mine, kind of, jumped out of my hands and crashed to the floor." His blush deepened even more, accentuating a spattering of freckles below his eyes. Goodness, he was a bit adorable.

"Sure, wait right here." Rose turned her back to him and scurried to the kitchen. She dug her glass pan from the cabinet, and finally let herself giggle. Things like this only happened in movies, or so she thought. She hurried back to the door and held out the heavy dish.

"You're a lifesaver." He beamed, and looked properly relieved.

Something inside of Rose encouraged her to ask him if he wanted to have tea or something tomorrow, but as he took the pan, she saw the tan line from a wedding ring on his finger. She wasn't too disappointed though. He was a successful doctor, and gorgeous to boot. Of course he wouldn't be single. "I'll come pick it up when you get home on Friday, yeah?"

"Sounds great." Jonathan replied and dashed across the street to his house.

Rose wandered back to the kitchen to finish her own dinner. As she ate, she settled down and picked up some information packet her cousin Mo had dropped off that morning. It was for a match making company that worked to find partners for the more financially endowed individuals in England.

She had absolutely no intention of taking part in such things, but it was amusing to read through. Once she had chucked that into the rubbish bin, she settled in to review her ideas for marketing. Rose was still learning all about the business world, but luckily the man, Jack Harkness, who bought half ownership of her remaining products was trust worthy.

Jack was the oldest son of her mum's childhood best friend, and he had paid his way through college in the states by modeling and starring in small roles on TV. Rose knew he'd never let her down or try to screw her over, so he ran all of the business side, and she designed the advertisements and monitored the company's social media account. So far, things were looking nothing but up.

In fact, as the week went on, Rose was pleasantly surprised to just how fast word of their sunglasses had traveled. Once the internet found out celebrities were sporting them, the small factory that ran production was flooded with orders. In less than twenty-four hours from the Emmy's, they went from having two months worth of stock to being three months of back orders.

In fact, as Rose was heading back from her morning job on Friday, she was Jonathan come striding out of his front door sporting a pair of black ones. She grinned at him and waved, wondering if he had bothered to research who owned the company. He didn't say anything, but it was thrilling and a bit embarrassing to see someone actually wearing them in public.

Maybe she'd mention it that evening when he got home. So far, she had tried to sneak a peek at his wife, but whoever the woman was, she never came out when Rose was. Maybe Rose would meet her when she went over to pick up her lasagna pan that night. With that thought, Rose set about painting the upstairs spare room that she had been turning into an art studio.

She was so engrossed in her work, that she totally missed the hours flying by. It wasn't until her lamps began to brighten and the finally line of tape was pulled away from the crown moulding, that she realized it was well after six. Jonathan had been home for over an hour.

Rose washed her hands free of paint, tossed on a pair of sandals, and dashed across the street. She was acutely aware of the rich blue paint staining her shirt, but that was fine. There was a cherry red convertible in the drive with the top down, and sitting in the passenger seat was a ladies gym bag. So the mysterious Mrs. McCrimmon was home.

Rose padded up the steps and knocked. However, the door wasn't fully closed and it popped open under her hand. There were sounds of a muted heated argument coming from the kitchen. Rose couldn't make out the words, but she heard something thud against the wall. She had heard enough domestic violence growing up to know someone was about to get hit, and Rose dashed into the house uninvited to intervene.

She came around the corner to see Jonathan squaring off with a tall blonde woman. "This is exactly why I divorced you! You're so spoiled Reinette!" Neither seemed to realize she was there. A half empty bottle of wine was shattered on the floor and the red had stained the white wall beside Jon. Judging by its position, it had been thrown at him. "You couldn't pay me to take you back! Honestly. I should call the police now and have you charged with breaking and entering."

Rose started to back up, hoping they wouldn't notice she was there. Otherwise he might have her arrested for breaking in. She made it two steps before Reinette gave a snort of disgust. "What smells like wet paint and sweat?"

Rose squeaked, and Jonathan looked over to her. Mischievousness sparked into his eyes, and he stepped over to her. "Reinette, this is Rose. She lives across the street. Rose, this is my EXwife, Reinette." He emphasized the ex part.

"Doesn't explain what this chav is doing here, spying on us." She arched an eyebrow and fixed Rose with a look of disdain. Anger bubbled in Rose's chest at the insult. She wasn't a chav. She was just as good as this bimbo was.

"Well, see, Rose and I have been dating, and I was supposed to be helping her paint her kitchen tonight, until you showed up." Jonathan casually tossed his arm over Rose's shoulder and pulled her in. He leaned down and captured her lips in a warm kiss. Fireworks exploded in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around his back. She could play along with this.

"And as for chav, weeeeeeell." He drug the word out and winked down at Rose as she pulled away. "She's kinda not. See this is Rose Tyler of Tyler and Harkness Incorporated, as in the company you have a photoshoot for on Monday to advertise their sunglasses."

"Consider yourself fired." Rose licked her lips, tasting the wine that Jon had been sipping, and laced her fingers through his. Reinette's face went white, and she fled the house.

Rose watched her go and then burst into a fit of giggles. Jonathan started chuckling beside her, and before long the found themselves leaning against each other. "So, boyfriend." Rose wiped her eyes and drew a shaky breath. "Can I have my lasagna pan back?"

He slapped himself in the forehead. "That's why you came over? I totally forgot." He went around the bar to the kitchen and picked it up. "Here ya go, Miss Tyler."

"That's two you owe me." Rose smiled wide, letting her tongue peek out playfully.

"Well, how about I take you to dinner to make it up?" Jon gave her a smooth smile and arched an eyebrow. "I mean, I'm your boyfriend, and I haven't even taken you on a first date before kissing you."

Rose nearly dropped her pan and felt her cheeks flush. Her stomach did a little flip. "My mum would slap you if she found out about that impropriety." She fixed him with a serious look.

"Well, Then I better fix that quick! Run home and shower, I'll clean up this mess." He rocked on the balls of his feet and made shooing motions.

Rose shook her head. "By the time I'm ready it'll be nearly nine." She tilted her head. "How about you order some takeaway and we can watch a movie instead?"

"That sounds brilliant." Jonathan ruffled his hair and snagged his mobile, where he began ordering pizza.

Rose chewed her lip, watching as he winked at her again. As far as first dates went, this was one for the record-books. 


End file.
